


Caught On Tape

by FictionalKnight (Northern_Star)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-24
Updated: 2009-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:17:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/FictionalKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for <a href="http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/"><b>sb_kink</b></a>'s <a href="http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/909.html">Superman/Batman Kink Meme</a>  (<i>Clark watches Bruce masturbate</i>) but posted here, because I fail at keeping things short...</p>
    </blockquote>





	Caught On Tape

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/profile)[**sb_kink**](http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/)'s [Superman/Batman Kink Meme](http://sb-kink.livejournal.com/909.html) ( _Clark watches Bruce masturbate_ ) but posted here, because I fail at keeping things short...

Superman sighs as he takes place in front of one of the computer consoles, inside the Watchtower's monitor womb. He got stuck with monitor duty tonight - the graveyard shift. It's gotten harder and harder to get anyone to fill that spot recently, and since the Kryptonian can manage with much less sleep than any of the others, he's generally the first one to volunteer for this shift.

Usually, he doesn't mind it at all. Except... tonight he does. When he agreed to trade shifts with Bart, Clark hadn't realized that it meant he'd be spending _tonight_ up here all alone, watching computer screens.

He sets his bowl of popcorn on the desk. There's nothing he can do about being stuck here, but that doesn't mean he can't make the best of his evening anyway. Lazily, he throws a few kernels in his mouth before tapping one of the screens. Immediately, a big, black and white Universal International logo fills the display. He hits a button on another control, and the lights in the room are dimmed.

As the opening credits start rolling, Clark punches a few keys on yet another control panel. The central monitor comes to life, displaying images from surveillance cameras that are streaming live from all around the world. There are one hundred and nineteen in total, but the display can only show sixteen at a time, so they're set to switch at customizable intervals. Clark typically sets it so that the rotation happens every ten seconds. It's enough for him to be able to see what's happening in all sixteen little squares, his trained eyes never missing signs of disturbance when there's any.

By the time he's gone through an entire first rotation, the opening credits are almost over. He doesn't mind having missed them, though; he's seen this movie a million times already. There was nothing significant on any of the images from the surveillance cameras, so he turns his full attention to the movie, happily shoving a few more pieces of popcorn in his mouth.

Every few minutes, he looks away from the classic black and white movie and carefully checks the broadcast from the surveillance cameras instead. It's quiet tonight, and there doesn't seem to be anything remarkable going on that would require intervention from himself, or anyone else from the superhero community. At least so far.

One third of the way through the two-hour feature, Clark suddenly realizes he's actually been looking at one hundred and twenty three camera displays, instead of the one hundred and nineteen he thought there were. Curious, he goes through the rotation again, attempting to find the extra four that he doesn't know about.

Two of them he cannot identify visually. He guesses they might be new installs or simply cameras that have been repaired and put back on line. He could check the logs, but he doesn't bother. He's far more interested by the other two anyway. The ones that should definitely not be there.

The first one he's noticed is showing the inside of his Fortress in the arctic. He's going to have to talk to Bruce about that... Superman certainly hasn't approved this. There's no reason he can think of for there to be a camera in the Fortress! Well, unless you take into account that Bruce Wayne is one crazy, paranoid Bat. Clark would know.

The other camera shows images that he can't immediately identify. When he hits the info button, the hovering information box states "location unknown" though Clark can tell from the IP address that this is broadcasting from somewhere in the USA. Of course, knowing the person who designed this system - the aforementioned paranoid Bat - the signal could be bounced off of any number of relays to mask its true location.

Clark shrugs and grabs a handful of popcorn, throwing a few pieces in the air before catching them in his mouth. As long as he sees no trouble coming from that location, he's not going to worry about it. Bruce would - it's his nature, and he always needs to know everything about anything - but Clark doesn't mind not knowing. Especially when there's nothing of real interest to begin with.

He's about to go back to watching his movie when he notices movement coming from that unknown camera. Someone is walking into the image. A man, who by all appearances just came out of the shower - his hair is dripping wet and he's wearing nothing but a towel tied around his hips.

Clark just about chokes on his popcorn when he recognizes the man, and he suddenly understand that the camera is somewhere inside the Batcave. How is this even possible? Bruce would never allow this. Not in a million years. And judging by the way he's walking around in nothing but a towel, it's quite obvious he's got no idea the camera is even there.

Bruce disappears off screen for a moment, and Clark wonders if that's all he'll be seeing of his Bat tonight, after all. But just as Clark is about to zoom out the display and get the screen rotation going again, Bruce walks into the image again. He's pulling a chair along, at which point Clark guesses that the camera is somehow embedded in the Batcave's main computer console, in front of which Bruce is about to sit down and work.

Clark smiles to himself and grabs another handful of popcorn. He'd try and see if there's a way to open an audio channel between the Watchtower and the Batcave, but that would give away the fact that there's a hidden camera installed there and he doesn't want to get Bruce all worked up about it. At least not tonight. He'll tell him tomorrow. Besides, Clark is fairly sure he can scramble the feed before he leaves the Watchtower, so that no one can spy on Batman's inner sanctum. No one but himself, of course.

Despite the fact that he feels like a voyeur, and that Bruce would have a fit if he knew, Clark can't help but watch as Bruce stretches and leans forward toward the Batcave's command center's multiple control panels. In fact, Clark has paused his movie and zoomed the teeny little window to fill the entire display instead.

For a few long minutes, there's nothing much to see besides Bruce tapping at controls, but Clark is content to have that to watch anyway. If he hadn't been so distracted when he'd agreed to take tonight's monitor duty shift, he'd be able to do a lot more than look, but since this is all he has for tonight, it'll do. Besides, there's a lot to be said for the view he has right now - Bruce is still wearing nothing but a bath towel, after all.

After a while, Bruce sits back in his chair. He yawns and stretches, throwing one arm over the back of the chair. He remains motionless for a long moment, eyes closed. Clark leans forward, closer to the screen, when he sees Bruce licking his lips slowly.

Unconsciously, Clark's hand rises up toward the screen and he stops when he realizes what he's doing. As much as he can touch the display, he cannot reach in and touch the man he sees on the image. Shaking his head at his foolishness, Clark leans back in his chair. He doesn't stop looking, however - why should he?

Slowly, he runs his eyes over Bruce's exposed upper body, lingering here and there on a bruise, a cut or a scar, remembering how it felt under his fingers, and mentally brushing a kiss on the ones he sees for the first time, as though it might help them heal.

Clark's breath catches when Bruce finally opens his eyes and for a moment it's as though he's staring directly at Clark, like he knows he's watching. Like there aren't thousands of miles between them, and they're sitting across the table from one another. Like they would have been, had Superman not been stuck up here tonight...

There's the slightest hint of a smile on Bruce's lips and Clark actually wonders if he knows about the camera. Then he does something else...and Clark can hardly believe what he's seeing.

Bruce is snaking a hand up his own thigh; long, well-manicured fingers disappearing under the towel as he reaches for what's now a very obvious bulge.

Eyes wide and pulse racing, Clark watches Bruce's hand move up and down under the towel, his mind screaming for Bruce to stop teasing and move the damned towel out of the way already. With every long, slow stroke of Bruce's hand on himself, Clark's breathing becomes more erratic, and he leans a little closer to the screen.

When Bruce actually does move the towel out of the way, Clark's nose is just a hair away from the display, mouth hanging open, eyes glazed over with lust, his red briefs now showing clear evidence of the effect this scene has him, giving new meaning to his Man of Steel moniker.

Clark lets out a strangled " _ah!_ " when he catches his first actual glimpse of Bruce's erection. He sinks into his chair, slapping a hand over his mouth.

And all of a sudden...

"Enjoying the show?" comes a low voice, in a whisper of warm breath against Clark's ear.

His blood runs cold and he wants to reach for the monitor's controls and shut off the display, but there's an arm in his way - an arm that's reached for the bowl of popcorn, grabbing a handful of the snack food.

"I wa--" The rest of Clark's protest never makes it past his lips, when he turns the chair around and finds himself staring straight into Bruce's eyes.

Steely blue eyes, sparkling with mischief and amusement. Bruce doesn't say another word. Instead, he smiles lazily before shoving some of the popcorn in his mouth.

Clark's mind is stuttering. "I thought-- you were--? You're up _here_? What are--? How did you get up here?"

There's a crooked smile on Bruce's lips and he places one hand just above Clark's shoulders, on the back of the chair, leaning closer to him as he says, "The same way I always get up here..." He pauses for the shortest of moments, before adding "Would you rather I be down _there?_ " insisting on the last word as he runs a thumb lightly up the hardness straining Superman's red briefs.

Clark's jaw drops and his eyes go unfocused. "Here, there... anywhere," he says in a throaty whisper.

Bruce whispers back "How about _every_ where?" and he leans closer, gently drawing Clark's bottom lip between his own.

Expressing his consent with a moan, Clark gives into the kiss. His hands quickly find their way up to Bruce's waist, and he grabs at the cashmere sweater, the soft fabric bunched tightly in his fists. But their position is awkward and they pull apart all too soon.

In a flash, Superman is on his feet, and he's got Bruce leaning back against one of the computer consoles. A quick breath and they're kissing again; deep and delirious kisses until, panting, almost gasping for air, they break apart.

"What was that all about?" Clark asks, tilting his head toward the monitor he'd been staring at so intensely just minutes before.

"I knew you'd be lonely up here," Bruce tells him, "so I thought I could provide a bit of entertainment."

Clark cocks his head to the side, frowning slightly. "Why go through all that trouble if you were going to join me anyway?"

Something deliciously naughty flashes in Bruce's eyes. "I wanted to make sure you'd be hot and bothered by the time I got here."

"You're a very evil man, Bruce Wayne," says Clark, with a crooked smile.

"Don't pretend you don't like it..."

In a chuckle, Clark replies, "Like it? Are you kidding? I love you for it." There's a quick pause and Clark's expression turns serious. "I love you," he says and he brushes a small kiss on Bruce's lips. "Thanks for... this. For coming up here."

"Couldn't very well let you spend _tonight_ all alone, could I?" Bruce's arms tighten around Clark's midsection. "Happy anniversary."

Clark's smile is broad and beautiful. "Definitely happy," he says, and he leans in for another kiss.

=> End.


End file.
